


headlights

by awsten



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, M/M, References to Depression, the number 532 is referenced too much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awsten/pseuds/awsten
Summary: perhaps the best way to forgive is to drive 532 miles together.or, in which two boys who fell back apart fall back together when they need each other most, and learning why what happened occurred over a five hundred and thirty two mile road trip. one is caught in the headlights of guilt, the other in fear, and only they can pull the other out.





	1. his name was donnie

_burnt sunlight on retracted hope_ **;** _ten hours before_

dan howell spent most of his eighteenth birthday at the old woods behind his house, slipping into the place he used to constantly spend his summers. he remembered diving into the lake a couple of miles in completely clothed after losing a bet, or pushing the other boy in.

he hasn't been here in years- not since the day he went to the hospital. he's forgotten the way the warm summer light slips through the trees. he forgot he feeling of your shirt sticking to you and the way it felt to dip your feet in the lake.

he remembers the vivid flowers, and the pile of bricks that he and his friend used to pretend were lining the pathway to a medieval castle. he remembers how if you didn't look carefully enough, you'd miss the old treehouse the boys' fathers built so long ago.

"it's pretty- isn't it, dan," a hand presses against his arm lightly, a girl staring at him as he stands on the edge of one of the small drop offs half a mile from the lake. she smiles, leaning over to brush some stray curls out of his face. her finger traces some of the freckles only his upper arm, his hand wrapped around hers.

"i spent most of my childhood here, if i have to admit. i use to pretend to be a king, but the other boy i used to play here with wanted to be it more so i let him. i was like co-king or something, i guess." he pulls the girl after him back to the path, heading down to see the reflections of the sun off the water.

"you ever going to tell who your knight in shining armor was? he stopped talking to you when we were sixteen, dan. i think it's okay to tell us."

dan doesn't open his mouth though, and she just barely shakes her head, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. his lips are stained cherry red from a lollipop he was having earlier while they were still trying to find the path. his curls fall back over his face, and shadows cast from the trees create more spots of darkness on his face. in the light, the freckles sprayed across his cheeks look like tiny constellations.

he remembers that boy traced a series of freckles out on his left cheek the last time they were out here, right before the incident. said it looked like the big, or little, dipper. it happened while they were laying on the banks of the lake, clothes soaking. dan was laying on his stomach, and the boy, who dan refers to as  **donnie** when his friends pressured him to think of a name on the spot while listening to fall out boy, was sitting on top of him, legs on either side of his stomach.

he remembers donnie's skin seemed way too lukewarm for him that day, it sent a shaky feeling through dan every time he brushed against it. donnie would laugh if dan made a comment about it, before just sitting on top of dan. donnie's eyes couldn't stay concentrated on dan's eyes while they talked (and he refused to get off), they kept wandering everywhere  _but_ dan's eyes.

but what happened on those dew covered banks ruined what they had forever, burnt what little hope that dan had of them staying friends despite how different they were to a crisp that crumbled right before his eyes.

he would almost say he felt the old scars ache as he sat right where it happened, remembering the feeling of blood on his face and fire licking his skin. elisabeth hugged him a little tighter then, setting her phone aside after telling her girlfriend she needs to go. dan just sighed and let his eyes fixiate on an old cheery blossom tree in the fields beyond a nearby hill. that's where they found him, bruised, bloody, and burnt unconscious due to acts of hate under a tree that meant love.

he missed the contours of that boy, he did, he missed the sleepovers and drinking hidden wine they kept under their beds. he misses the tipsy confession and the burning of the liquid in their lungs. he misses donnie pressing his forehead to dan's whenever dan started crying, dan's hands gripped tightly in between them.

but he can't have that anymore, it was him lying on those old banks on his eighteen birthday crying into his best friend's shirt. donnie's hands were replaced with elisabeth's small and soft ones, and perhaps his heart panned a bit when he called her donnie while crying instead of elisabeth.

perhaps that's why they stayed there until the sunset, biding farewell to the sun as the orange, pink, and red hues finally disappeared off the surface of the lake. just like the way the boy that use to rule this kingdom next to dan disappeared out of his life, slowly, then completely, replaced by a dark void.

_perhaps the sun will rise again._

 


	2. i'm buzzed but only off the thought of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we're getting close to the road trip.

_lilac smelling bedsheets_   **;** _one hour before_

dan's sweatpants hung loose on his hips, hair dripping down his back as drawers shut. trying to find a clean shirt is not easy- especially when you just graduated high school and half your closet was your uniform. he settles for an old shirt for a theatre production he was in sophomore year, and luckily he's still about the same size.

his eyes were red, and ears perked up at the distant sounds of car horns and dogs barking the pale moonlight. overall, it was quiet, his family was out of town, dan stayed behind so he can pack more stuff for college in the closing days of august.

to him, it didn't really matter he was alone in his home in his eighteenth birthday. he's not one to celebrate real big, or do something now that he's legal. he just carries on like any other day. however lonely that may seem to some, he enjoyed the closeness of his friends and the birthday walks across town rather than the precisely planned birthday parties with more acquaintances there than actual friends.

his clothes crumpled on the bedroom door are laced with the smell of smoke from where his friends came by earlier and they made some smores over the fire pit in dan's backyard. they talked quietly, watched the stars, and retold memories, some still glossy from the lack of age.

it reminded him of a thing he had with donnie once, they sat shoulder touching cross legged on the grass. their voices with slightly high pitched and unsteady, the smell of alcohol on their breath clear. donnie turned fifteen several days prior during a snowstorm which made dan unable to go over, so they met as soon as they could. that was the first time they really really drank, thankful dan's family got stuck a few towns over for the night. dan doesn't remember much, but he remembers the sweat of each other's skin as they sat on the grass looking at the stars. donnie's arm slung around dan's shoulders, and every time he made a bad joke dan would softly recite the boy's full name.

that was always a way to emit a response from donnie, dan still whispers it under his breath sometimes when he thinks of the boy.

dan's body aches, and not in a way from climbing or from the weather or anything. it aches for feeling the other boy pressed against the bare skin of his back, tracing freckles between his shoulder bones. they would lay in the grass for hours, rain, snow, or shine.

 _he would have known what's bothering you._ dan's head chimes in, calling back to why dan was so quiet at the fire pit for the first time in years. his friends didn't notice- or didn't comment on it.

"it's nothing." dan whispers, the battered shoes he was wearing earlier tucked under his arm. they reek of alcohol from someone spilling it, just like he did earlier.

dan's head doesn't chime back, but it doesn't need to. the dull thud in his heart is enough.

_in. out._

perhaps being an inpatient four times in three years does give dan control over his issues, even if it doesn't feel like it. despite how much it can get on his nerves, all the rules, he's thankful for what it has done for them.

even if it means shoes with no laces.

_see- you're calm._

the dip in his back around his spine tingles as the shirt presses to his wet back, the boy sitting against the side of his bed. the alcohol has mainly worn off now, now just a heavy feeling that makes dan pull at the thread of his carpet as the only audible thing was his breathing. it was softer than before, almost back to normal.

he needs to go to bed,  _should_ go to bed, but he already knows what tonight will be like. the moonlight will watch over him as sits at his window, refusing to reach inside the dark room and place the boy in his bed. melatonin will sit just out of his reach, perhaps until the next night.

tonight is one of those nights, the one where he can lay in bed for hours and realize he's crying. the ones where he wraps his arm around his pillow like it's a person, burying his face into it as his wet eyes blur his vision. there's a tight feeling in his chest all night long, and everything feels too big.

his face will feel heavy, like his body is not his. the walls of his room will suddenly seem too far apart as he pulls the covers up to his chin.

he will wish for the sleep, but at the same time, is afraid of it. his mind will be his only company, reaching into everything that dan doesn't want to think about.

it's one of those nights, the ones where dan texts a friend at three in the morning making no sense, a complete mess. the ones that he makes constellations out of the speckle on the ceiling because he can't focus long enough to find the real ones.

dan just liked constellations, he always has. they're sketched onto the back of schoolwork, calendars, anything that he can write on and not get in too much trouble for.

he used to sit on his counters, knees pressed against the mirror, feet tucked under opposite thighs as he stared at his cheeks. he would look until he could make out a constellation, whether it be orion's belt or the little dipper.

_perhaps he was a star, going and going until he burned out._


	3. fingers around shaking wrists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dan still isn’t sober and can’t hold his tongue and makes a lot of bad decisions. donnie is involved in all of them.

burnt sienna ; one minute before

he was in bed when it happened. he was shrouded in late night thoughts and questionable decisions, a heavy feeling in the back of his head as the moon watched carefully outside his window. the tree outside was delicately yapping every few seconds, a soft click to interrupt the otherwise silence.

haven't you taken enough from me? won't you torture someone else's sleep?

it plays softly through the earbuds wrapped around dan's fingers loosely before going into his ears. his eyes are fixated on a rough path above his bed, a single shoe print from a certain person scaring him a few years back, his shoe flying into the ceiling.

they both prayed dan's mom didn't hear (she did) and make them leave for the house for a few hours to waste energy (she did).

11:59.

the end of the first day spent as an adult, and he smells like sweat and whiskey. there's wet eyes pressed against bare forearms and cold pillows, a silly smile on his face and a heavy pounding in his head.

"you look really guilty."

chills is the only way to describe it, the cold feeling racking through his body quickly. his back feels stiff, and his head feels like it's going to fall right off his shoulders. fear isn't the word- it's more so surprise.

but he's there, back pressed against the dresser, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on his face illuminated by the moon through the now-slightly open window.

"and you're not?" that's all dan can manage, his earbuds and phone hitting the wall before slipping down between it and his bed as he rips them off. he's bewildered, completely.

"i've seen you drunk before, howell. at least a little tipsy. not remember when your family got stuck, i had to literally hold you back from stumbling around by the old well? you're such a lightweight."

fuck, donnie.

"why are you here?"

"i can't stop by to introduce you to your second day of adulthood? i'm hurt, dan. thought good old 'donnie' would be allowed into your bedroom- or is that just elisabeth?"

"you don't even show up to your own boyfriend'a birthday parties from what i've heard."

"ex-boyfriend."

"looks like you really can't hold any type of emotional bond with anyone for over three months."

that was not the right thing to say, at all. the already-present tension only gets thicker, a small chuckle from the boy, dan closing his eyes as he hears the footsteps approaching his bed. tequila opens your lips at all the wrong times.

there's fingertips clutching his wrist tightly, he knows that. there's a mouth right by his ear, a knee pressed against his hip, the other on the side of that leg, pushing it down into the bed.

"at least i don't pretend to be someone i'm not."

"how do you want me to prove that?"

"follow me, howell."

—

it's a rather noticeable car, to say the least. donnie's fingers brush against dan's palm, a pair of keys hitting the top of his fingers.

"you in or out?"

"why the hell would-"

there's a hand against dan's mouth, another body pinning him against the side of the car, keys abandoned on the ground.

"do you want to do nothing before this summer is over- stay in this town until you're finally gone? you're just gonna wait patiently until you leave the rest of us here to die? because bullshit, dan, i know you're intrigued, i know you want out of this town as soon as possible. give me four weeks."

the hand is removed from dan's mouth, eyes staring into his. they're not full of anger, almost begging.

"two weeks."

"three and a half."

"three- that's as far as i'll go. but the moment i want to go home, we're turning around. two- i'm not saying anything i don't want to. three- you're not going to do any of the shit you didn't tonight again. fourth- no one that was with you that day comes near me, near us, in any circumstances."

there's just a nod as donnie motions back up to dan's room for him to pack a bag. dan can already feel the gravity of the situation hitting him, the ghost fingertips pressing against his ribs. donnie isn't harsh or brutal, he's just physical, but he doesn't actually hurt people.

dan knows that more than anyone.

"i have one condition, dan."

"what?"

"call me by my name- otherwise you're not going to move on from that day."

"only if you explain what happened that day."

"not today- but i will. promise."

"i'm trusting you, phil."

"i know dan, i know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


	4. i’m pale with a ghost obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of the road trip (finally)

_you're a natural blue ; mile one_

there are something things that never change, a constant neutral in a sea of every changing hues and tones.

in some cases, it was the way you got ready, the way you drove, the songs you listened to. even if they're not necessarily consumed on a constant basis, when the action is in motion, it is the same motion every time.

thirteen dollars and twenty eight cents.

in this case, as absurd as it sounds, it was the two food orders. the coin clinked against each other between phil's outreached fingers, the florescent lights a large contrast to the starry night sky.

"is this the new fall out boy album? haven't listened in a while." phil speaks up as they turn away, the volume increasing on the stereo quickly. "it's different."

"i like it. the closing track, bishop's knife track, is really good. hoping it doesn't become another twin skeletons and never get played live." dan doesn't have a filter when it comes to music, he never has. he can talk for hours about the little details or lyric meanings, obsessing over the references to mythology or old films or literature. "some people say it's really different, a bad kind. but none of their albums really do sound the same, so."

"is your favorite one still folie à deux?"

"probably. it's the vinyl i play most often, at least. what about yours? got a guilty pleasure for one?" that's the type of conversations they use to have, double implications and small complications.

"save rock and roll. one of the best comebacks i've ever seen.." phil's eyes are avoiding the neon signs lining the street, but often rolling over the dark sidewalks. he pauses, a small laugh caught in his throat. "you're haven't changed much."

"you have."

"not really. inside, i'm still the same person mainly. just lots of misconceptions and guilty by association assumptions." there's an edge to his voice, a two war sword that is constantly spinning. actions are risky, a fifty fifty chance of a good or bad response, a shot in the dark so to speak.

and tonight, dan's using all of his bullets.

"you ever regret some thing you've done the past few years?"

"started playing twenty one questions have we? but yeah, a few times. you can't live your life in regret though. better to regret than to never experience it most of the time anyways."

there's a few specific instances that are tied loosely that that sentence, a small connection than can be made. they're little slivers led tin a big picture, the shading that adds depth and character to a painting. dan's brain experiences the first few shades, but the rest he heard from others, small truths behind school booths, or scratched sharpie on bathroom stalls. it was always phil lester did the and phil lester did that, an entertainment show for the entire town.

and dan was finally turning off the channel since graduation, donating the television to the next generation for the next kid on the verge of crashing and burning.

until tonight.

"you gonna snap out of it long enough for me to ask my question, howell?"

"yeah, sure, i guess." dan talks quickly, shaking his head as it jerks up. the food is warm in his hands, phil's eyes fixated on him as he takes a sip, face lit by lights in the best buy parking lot.

"what's the most recent song you've learned to play on the piano?" the question is more innocent than dan expected, a soft insight to a small part of dan's life. it's little bits of old phil slipping through the cracks in his lips, a small smile tucked somewhere in the back of his head. at any other point, dan would have considered it a small tease, the hopeful reward being a knee jerk reaction from him. this wasn't.

"i had to learn a few coldplay songs from a rush of blood to the head for the last program we did before graduation- so one of those." dan's voice wavers for a second, pausing before asking a question quietly allowed.

"should i tell my parents? god- they're gonna kill me finding out that i'm with you. i don't even know why i said yes there was just a part of me that wanted to and there's something about you that still appeals to me and i don't know. it's just- you're not the phil everyone makes you lot to be and i don't know if that's me still grasping on to old-"

phil's ribs press against the center console as he leans over, grabbing dan's forearm as he cuts him off with the action. cold skin against warm, fire and ice.

"you don't owe them an explanation. _you don't owe anyone an explanation_. remember that- give an explanation or apology only because of your own free will. anything that is destined will come in due time."

phil pauses again.

"let's get back to twenty one questions before someone says something they regret. that's okay, dan?"

"yeah- yeah, it is. my turn..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if there’s a specific place you want them to go please comment it with the name and i’ll try to make it happen.


	5. living life caught in the cross hairs of your own self doubt

i'm inclined to waste my time for miles and miles ; mile 2-5

———

"let's get back to twenty one questions before someone says something they regret. that's okay, dan?"

"yeah- yeah, it is. my turn..."

———

"let's here the question in that case. prepare me for the worst." phil laughs, leaning back and interlocking his fingers behind his head. his eyes dance across the empty parking lot, seeing the dozens of old food wrapped scattered across, most likely from other kids in town who don't listen to curfew, getting drunk behind abandoned buildings and addicted to butterfly kisses on vodka lips.

"is that a challenge?" dan has a smile small on his face, a glint in his eyes making phil peek up a bit more, pressing the cold cup against his arm. he watches as his skin turns a soft pink, glowing under the yellow light.

"most definitely. you're going down. your turn, loser." phil's eyes wander to his phone, which sits on the console against dan's elbow, the screen illuminated with an incoming call. before dan could read the name, phil grabbed the phone quickly, denying the call before turning the phone off completely, throwing it under his seat.

"what was initiation for your little friend group?" dan looks up, dumping his trash into the paper bag tucked between his legs, taking a sip of his soda, which burns his dry throat.

"asking the questions from high school- i see you. but yeah, we had one."

"which was?"

"eh- let the guys get you drunk and do some stupid tasks and the girls can do whatever they want to you. lasts for a week. the last night you're sent out with the rest to the cliff jump on the colder part of the bay and you have to admit a lot of things about you otherwise you're left their with no clothes and keys."

"why the admitting?"

"sometimes people need blackmail, just in case. if you lie, talia did, it doesn't end well. trust me."

"did you ever?"

"my question, dan." phil answers sharply, the sword flipping back over in his palms as the table is turned reluctantly. dan nods, keeping his mouth shut. there's a yes hidden behind those words, but dan isn't going to pry for it- not yet at least. especially seeing what happened to talia, a taboo subject in their town, a foggy tale of a tragedy that never is entirely known- except for maybe phil and a few others who had the targets on their back following the act. "your friends- ever been involved with any of them? even if it was just because you guys are future alcoholics- everyone knows, dan. don't act so surprised. who's the girl who's always hanging all over you? elisabeth?"

"shared a drunk kiss or two with a few of them but normal drunk stuff- mainly to keep creeps away. elisabeth, well, i only cover her for a different relationship with her parents. she's dating sadie- that one girl from the art department."

"sadie's nice. i sat next to her in art all of junior year. she comes over sometimes- her older brother is good friends with my brother." his voice drops at the end of the sentence, jaw tightening for a moment before he hits the steering wheel with his palm and takes a deep breath. "we need to get back on the road."

  
"why'd you choose me for this? you could have definitely gotten one of your friends." dan steps over the line cautiously, feeling the rush for adrenaline trickling down his spine as he coughs a few times.

"why not?" he dances around the question carefully, pulling more at the questionable nature of their past and how it splintered, not the aftermath. he's still a young boy in there somewhere, pulling at dan's hair on the bank of the lake, sweat becoming new skin in the golden hour.

dan's still that kid that dove too fast into things, tapping his feet in the waiting room waiting for the next chapter of his life. he's approach death with a sprint, nothing made him weary or pause, his trust was quick and love quicker.

"we haven't talked in two year, phil. and if i remember correctly, our last interaction wasn't exactly civil. or am i wrong?" disinfectant on open wounds it stung, ripping apart some careful stitches they strayed away from focusing attention on, phil gripping the steering wheel tighter, eyes following the passing headlights on the interstate entrance.

"just because you haven't talked to me about it doesn't mean that no one has."

"no one gave a shit, phil! that was the fucking issue. you got away with it. the only person that visited me in that damn hospital was my brother, not even my parents. for some reason, i really hoped you would- that maybe somewhere, you felt bad for what happened."

phil reaches other in the following silence, taking the cup from dan's hands as he starts to shake, the ice overpowering the stereo. he sets it down quietly in the cup holder, hand faltering for a moment between them before going back to the steering wheel, eyes focusing back on the road, as if they stray away, he'll shatter.

"my other friends thought i was stupid for this, absolutely ridiculous for wanting to get out, compared me to you. we're not crazy for wanting to leave this damn town, and you got the opportunity and took it. i didn't get the opportunity, and i wanted just a taste. after college starts- i don't think i'll have another chance, dan. is that okay?"

okay. define okay. is okay in the middle, a half ass grey? is it just a less offensive term for mediocre or unacceptable? or, is it a term for it being perfectly fine and amazing and acceptable, but all other words are stuck in an endless void of hesitation in your throat?

but, in whichever case, dan knew his answer on the question of okay, it fluttered to his head, a dull thud hitting somewhere else in his body, perhaps his head, perhaps his gut. he wasn't sure.

so, when dan answered, phil just nodded in response, sitting up a bit more as he watched the passing trees in his headlights.

and?

it was okay in this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave thoughts/reactions in the comments! thank you for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> moved over from audenss on wattpad.


End file.
